I, Halfa
by Soului
Summary: Now a series of one-shots. Mostly contemplative, but I might throw in other stuff for flavor. There will be AU, there'll probably be crossovers. Basically, I'll write here when I have writer's block on my other stories. warning ch.2 is a little dark.
1. I, Halfa the original oneshot

A/N: Yay, another introspective and random one-shot idea

A/N: Yay, another introspective and random one-shot idea. In all honesty, this one's dead serious, so if you're looking for laughs, you'll have to look elsewhere. This could be considered a companion piece to 'What I Always Wanted' if you turn your head sideways and squint, but only in the loosest sense. If you feel like looking that one up as well though, you're more than welcome. And here we go!

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom

He was dead. Well, technically he was half-dead, but that was beside the point. At first it wasn't so obvious. When he was Fenton, he was fully human, perhaps a bit cooler than normal, but still human. And when he was Phantom, he was a ghost. His temperature plummeted, his blood turned green and his heart stopped. That had to be the freakiest feeling he had ever experienced; it was strange how you took simple things like a heartbeat for granted until you couldn't find it anymore. For the first few years he still breathed as a ghost, but he had come to realize that it was out of habit rather than any need for oxygen. He didn't do it anymore when he was in ghost form. It avoided situations like that Ghost Bug incident of Spectra's (he still couldn't believe he let Bertrand knock him out like that!).

But once again, that was beside the point. The point is that, while in the beginning he was quite obviously two different entities, the line between Phantom and Fenton had blurred as time went on. He wasn't sure what the cause was, maybe it just took that long for the ectoplasm to fully bond with his DNA, maybe it was some sub-conscious acknowledgement that he was happier as Phantom than he could ever be alive, but either way, his ghost side was clearly leaking into his human form.

He first noticed something amiss after yet another ghost fight (Skulker vs. Phantom-round 1083 _ding_). Skulker had attacked him out of nowhere, getting a lucky shot to his side before Danny could react. The scuffle that followed was business as usual, but Danny had noticed something strange once the little blob was securely in the thermos and he had turned human. At first he thought his eyes were tricking him, or that some of the ectoplasm he had bled earlier was left in the wound, but a thorough cleansing of the gash had proven otherwise. He was still bleeding ectoplasm.

Not entirely, it was just a hint of green mixed with the crimson flow, but it was there.

That was clue #1, but others soon followed. In winter Sam and Tucker huddled miserably in their coats while he walked around quite comfortably in a sweater. In summer his friends sweated and simmered respectively while Danny felt perfectly cool. It was like the human realm didn't touch him anymore, like he wasn't part of it. His powers became easier to access; suddenly they were just below the surface, ready to emerge at the slightest notice. While he wasn't pasty white, he didn't tan anymore or get burnt. It was like the sun itself had abandoned him, telling him to go back to the night and all the dark creatures. The dark creatures that were his kindred in a sense.

Possibly the most panic inducing moment was when Jazz had told him to watch himself because he was starting to float while he slept. It wasn't unusual anymore for him to wake up three feet off his mattress. How was he supposed to explain _that_ one to his parents?!

If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he had been worried for a short time that he was loosing his humanity, that somehow the ectoplasm was overriding his human DNA. He would be lying if he claimed that the very idea didn't scare him; he had numerous nightmares about the prospect (he'd had some time explaining the smoking hole in his bedroom wall, how do you tell your ghost hunting parents that you shot an ectoplasmic beam out of instinct?). It wasn't that he was afraid of death. How could he be, being what he was? He saw death all the time, saw what comes after it, fought against it. The thought of dying didn't scare him in the least. But he had seen what he was capable of, what might happen if he didn't have that human conscience holding him in check.

The scare had passed. Tests had reassured him that he was still as human as he was right after the accident; the ectoplasm was bonded to his genome, but not harming it. As far as anyone could tell, he was in no danger of loosing his humanity any time soon.

The last shoe to drop wasn't noticed until years later. Danny's body had aged normally and predictably up until he was 18 or 20, but then he just stopped. Although his eyes held all the wisdom of an old man, he looked exactly the same when he was 25, 30, and 50, and so on (which got very annoying as time went on, how do you pass as normal if you never age?)

Yes, at first he was two very different creatures sharing the same mind, but that had changed. He was Phantom, but he was a man as well. He was Fenton, but his blood shone green. He was a halfa: a little ghost, a little human, and altogether something else.

A/N: Just something that occurred to me. I actually meant it to go in an entirely different direction, but it turned out alright. I hope I didn't make it too depressing. Tell me what you think, press the little review button please!


	2. ghostly honour

The ghostly sense of honour is warped, twisted, and appears backwards to mortals, but it is there

A/N: Behold, the result of half an hour of boredom and longing for a break from studying! Really short I know, but like I said, I'm somewhat lacking in the time department.

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom

The ghostly sense of honour is warped, twisted, and appears backwards to mortals, but it is there. Most people don't realize it, or they don't want to realize it, but ghosts do have a sort of morality to them. It's not a matter of not being able to differentiate between right and wrong, it is simply that those morals, those ethics are too different then our own. Most people will never be able to understand, just like many ghosts will never understand the ethics of mortals.

Humans accuse ghosts of having no regard for human life; they say that the lives of the people being terrorized don't even register in the ghostly mind. And they don't, but the truth is much deeper than that. It isn't that ghosts have no regard for human life; they have no regard for life period. You have to understand, to a ghost, there is little difference between life and death. Most ghosts died so long ago that they can't even remember being alive. Life seems so short to them, so infinitesimal in the grand scheme of things that it is hardly worth considering. Everyone ends up in the Zone eventually, why should it matter if a spirit ends up in the Zone a few decades earlier than they would otherwise? When ghosts kill someone (horrible as it sounds), it's not often because they're trying to be cruel or vicious. They simply don't understand what all the fuss is about. I would wager to say that some ghosts even think they're doing their victims a favor, being of the opinion that existence as a ghost is much better than anything Earth can offer.

Mortals often assume that, because ghosts don't follow convention on this, our most sacred law, that they don't have any ethics. It's not true; it simply means that our most sacred law is not necessarily applicable to them.

Ghosts will never understand humans and humans will never understand ghosts. There are probably only three in all of existence who can truly say they understand both points of view, and of those three, I can probably understand the best. After all, Dani has no memory of being anything else than what she is now. Even though she's half human like Vlad and I, she's never tasted mortality. She has a heart yes, she can turn human, but she will never be affected by death. Vlad, while he remembers humanity well, has allowed his ghost half to twist him into something more ghost in its thinking than human. He may look and feel mortal, but he's evil. You can always see a hint of Plasmius lurking behind his gaze. I think that, out of the three of us, I'm the only one that can truly understand. I remember being mortal; I remember the vulnerability of it. I still have friends and family who are mortal and continually remind me of what it's like to be human. Yet at the same time, I'm a halfa. I have tasted immortality; I also know what it's like to laugh in the face of death, and know it can never touch you.

Though I don't agree with it and will do everything in my power to stop it, I can understand where the ghosts are coming from. I can empathize. And I can empathize with the humans too; life is precious. Although it's often hard to see, ghosts do have a code. As warped and twisted as they are, there are some rules. Most people don't know, and most don't want to. After all, it's easier to think in terms of black and white. This is right, this is wrong, and ghosts have no honour.

A/N: I didn't mean this to be nearly as dark as it sounds, I swear! I finished this, looked back at what I wrote, and was like WTF, what is this?! It just occurred to me that maybe some of Danny's enemies are just mischievous and bored. Look at Skulker. The weird thing is that I was in such a happy mood when I wrote this. So weird! I'm almost afraid to know what you guys think.


	3. Maddie

Maddie's POV

A/N: I'm baaacck! For your viewing and reading entertainment this evening/morning/day/whatever it is while you're reading this, it gives me great pleasure to introduce the newest addition to my stream of pointless ramblings! For the purposes of this ficlet, Phantom Planet never happened and Danny's parents don't find out his secret until they die and become ghosts themselves. I'm well aware that, as ghost hunters, existence as a spirit is probably not what they'd choose, but bear with me here. Anyway, now that that's done with, on to the mindless rambling!

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

Maddie's POV

I don't know what I was expecting death to be like, a flash of light and a long tunnel, something like that. But there wasn't. Death wasn't nearly as traumatic as I thought it would be. One minute I was laying alone in my bed, and the next I was somewhere else and Jack was beside me. He had died a few years before. For a split second I was confused, but it's not like my death came out of the blue. I had lived a good long life, I was old and it was my time. I figured out pretty quickly that I was no longer among the living.

I had been thinking about death a lot since Jack passed. I suppose it's something that every ghost hunter has to face at some point. We're mortal beings, death is inevitable, and I had spent most of my adult life pursuing things that were dead. It's easier to ignore in your youth, but after being confronted with the physical manifestations of death for years untold, you start to wonder about your own fate. Will you become the very thing you hunt? That must be the nightmare of every ghost hunter in existence, to loose your humanity upon death and become a ghost; the hunter becomes the hunted. There's a kind of ironic justice to that, I suppose. After Jack died, I waited with dread for his ghost to start terrorizing the town. I kept expecting to see a pale and translucent version of the man I loved floating around. I don't know if I could've handled that.

I was so relieved that death did not necessarily mean the manifestation of malevolence. My thinking feels just as human as it did when I was alive, and so does Jack's. I admit the fact that a few of Jack's and mine theories on ghosts, or even the majority of them, weren't correct was hard to swallow at first, but it didn't take us long to accept that we were wrong about several things. For one thing, not all ghosts are evil, most are just looking for a quiet way to spend eternity and seem friendly enough. The other major correction I discovered was a little more personal in nature.

It's amazing the revelations that death can bring. It was so obvious; I'm not sure how I missed it. Danny's troubles in school, the mysterious injuries and lame curfew excuses. It was like a riddle, blindingly obvious once you're told the answer. My son is half ghost.

I suppose the truth never clicked because Jack and I never allowed ourselves to entertain the notion that such a thing could happen. You were either dead, or you were alive; you couldn't be both. Needless to say, considering what our son is, that hypothesis is blown out of the water.

I have to give him credit, after the first few blundering years he did an excellent job of covering up the truth. By that time, Tucker, Sam, and he had a working and reliable system of excuses, alibis, and non-existent activity plans. They seemed to read each other's minds and their teamwork was incredible. They were and are a seamless team in all aspects of their lives, whether they are ghost hunting, relaxing, or covering for each other. Most people in the world would cut off their right arm to have the kind of camaraderie that my son has found seemingly without effort.

It took a lot of time before my mind fully adjusted to the idea that my son is a halfa. Not only because I used to believe it was a scientific impossibility, but because it really drove home the fact that my little boy doesn't need me anymore, and hasn't needed me for a long time. Perhaps it was because of the bully magnet façade that he put on all through high school, but I became accustomed to the idea that Danny needed to be protected. Jack and I always saw Jazz as the independent one, we never doubted that she was anything but self-sufficient, but Danny was our baby boy. It was quite an adjustment from that mindset to one acknowledging how powerful my son really is. Not only can he look after himself, he can and does protect everyone in Amity Park. I might be there for emotional support and such, but Danny doesn't need me to protect him anymore. I suppose every mother has that revelation at some time or another, mine just came a little later than most.

Another shocker (though more for Jack than for me) was the truth about Vlad. I mean, I always knew he was a creep, but the truth was even more strange than I could've possibly imagined. Our old college friend, a megalomaniac half-ghost with an unhealthy fixation with my son (and with me, come to think of it). Some of the stories that Danny has told me send shivers up my spine, how Vlad kidnapped, cloned, and tortured him, how he sent his ghostly minions to make Danny's life even more difficult than it already was, and I don't think I'll ever forgive him for waking up Pariah Dark and putting Danny in such danger. I know Danny does a bang up job of getting into trouble on his own, but that's beside the point. Vlad recklessly risked not only my son's life, but the existence of every creature and person on this planet. I can't believe I let that jerk inside my house.

It's hard to believe that anyone so evil could create someone as sweet as my son's little 'cousin'. Dani is a wonderful woman and a beautiful soul. Although, I suppose it makes sense in a way; there's more of Danny in her than there could ever be of Vlad. Vlad might have created her and raised her through those first few weeks of life, but she shares her DNA with Danny, and he has one of the purest souls that I have ever known. I've always seen inherent good in Danny; his clone's behavior (against all efforts to make her otherwise) just proves what I've always thought.

I do wish that Danny would've felt comfortable enough to tell us his secret. We shouldn't have had to wait until we died to find out the truth. Rationally, I don't blame him; Jack made enough comments about how he was going to 'rip Phantom apart molecule be molecule' to make Danny wary about us finding out the truth, but it still hurts.

Everything worked out in the end though, Danny moved past those difficult few years when he first got his powers and went on to have a happy and productive life. He found a good career, married a good woman, and had a family. There are obviously some variations to the American dream in his case (quality family time consists of helping his children master their own ghost powers), but for all the strangeness in my son's life, he's managed to find some form of normality and he's happy. For all his adolescent trials, he turned out all right.

That doesn't me feel like any less of an incompetent parent though. It's long over and done with, but I still feel guilty that I wasn't there for him during those years. I love him and promised to always be there for him, but when he most needed me, I wasn't. It's a good thing that ghosts last a long time. It's probably going to take at least a few centuries before I get over how I failed him.

A/N: I thought I'd try something different, so I decided to give Maddie POV a shot. I thought it turned out pretty well. Tell me what you think.


	4. 10 words starting with A

A/N: Once again, just trying something different...thought I'd try the 10-word meme. I don't know if there's a list somewhere you're supposed to use, but I just chose ten words. My goal was to pick words that most people wouldn't think of using, so you'll have to tell me how I did (definitions are in brackets).

Oh, and in case you didn't notice, all the words start with A. If enough people like this, I might decide to do some of the other letters. Let me know :)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

#1-aesthetic (having a sense of attractiveness)

It took a particular type of person, Sam decided, to appreciate the beauty of the Ghost Zone. Many people, including her own parents, would find nothing of beauty in this place. Everything was oddly coloured and warped in shape. There was no logic, no up or down, and that fact supremely messed with the linearly acquainted minds of humans.

Most didn't seem to see the freedom of this place, the idea that, in here, one could be whoever or whatever one wanted. They didn't see the subtle shifts and shapes in the swirling ectoplasm, but Sam did. Sam thought the chaos was beautiful.

#2-affectionate

The predator waited impatiently for his prey to pass him by. He had been crouched here for what seemed like forever, but he was determined. He knew his prey would come soon; the routine was the same every day. He tensed suddenly, hearing voices approach. _Not yet_, his internal hunter said. _Wait...Wait...Now!!_

Tensing his muscles, the predator leaped out of the bush he had been hiding in. His prey cried out, raising hands in defence before being bowled over. The victorious hunter cried out in triumph...

Sam and Tucker dissolved into helpless laughter as Cujo jumped on their friend, covering him from head to toe in sloppy dog kisses.

#3-aggregate (to collect, a gathering into a single mass)

Ghosts were generally an independent bunch. Maybe it was because the human world was so full of rules that ghosts just had no interest in following more once they were dead. Or, more likely, the rule of Pariah Dark had just put them off the whole idea of centralized authority.

That was why everyone in the Zone was so shocked at the audacity of the Ghost Kid, coming here to ask for their help. It was less that he was an enemy to most of them, more that he dared to think that they would all follow his lead; that they would all work in concert for any reason. Ghosts typically didn't listen to anyone other than themselves, which is why everyone was so shocked to find themselves listening to the kid.

#4-alchohol

"I'll have your strongest ale." Skulker said loudly, making sure that all in the bar could hear.

The ghost-bartender rolled his eyes at the macho display, but didn't say anything. Skulker was one of the establishment's best customers after all. For his part, Skulker grinned. He had a reputation to maintain after all, and the mug of strong ale was perfect for his 'intimidating hunter' image.

He nursed that mug for most of the night, until all the other patrons were long gone. Then, taking a careful look around, Skulker threw the mostly untouched mug of bitter liquid down the drain.

"Finally," He muttered, before looking up at the bartender. "The usual, please."

Skulker eagerly sipped the strawberry daiquiri the ghost handed to him.

"Ahh," He sighed, "Much better."

#5-amoeba (a very small and spineless animal)

Danny had seen some pretty odd things since his accident with the portal. He had fought a giant meat monster, a giant technology monster (what was it with ghosts and giant monsters anyway?), and old, Jewish, ghost vultures, to name only a few. This, however, was an entirely novel experience.

Danny sighed, looking at the amoeba they had just been studying in biology. The amoeba that had suddenly formed a mouth and fangs, grown to the size of a large Doberman, and was currently chasing his classmates around the room.

"You've got to be kidding me." He muttered before ducking under his desk to transform.

#6-anathema (cursed, greatly disliked)

He never asked to be the hero. He didn't want people to idolize him or swoon over him or burst into cheers as he passed by, but a little respect and appreciation would've been nice. Most days it was enough that his friends and sister had faith in him. Most days, all he needed was the belief that he was the good guy, that he was doing the right thing.

The blast narrowly missed him. He had just saved a little kid from falling to her death, but do you think Valerie could see that?! Of course not, all she saw was a ghost, an enemy.

He got away from the Huntress by the skin of his teeth, returning home bruised and exhausted, only to be met with a scathing lecture on missing his curfew (again) and a dinner conversation revolving around the best potential way to catch and dissect a ghost.

Danny smiled and gritted his teeth for as long as he could, before asking to be excused and practically fleeing to the roof. Jazz joined him after a few minutes and held him as he cried. Most days, belief and faith were more than enough. But most days aren't all days, and sometimes Danny wondered if this was worth it.

#7-apoplexy (a stroke)

Eric Lancer's love of books was well known (and well mocked, truth be told) by the student's of Casper High. One had only to listen to the overweight teacher's unique manner of swearing to figure out how very highly books rated on his priority list.

So when Mr. Lancer walked into the library after a ghost attack to find shelves overturned and many books either scorched or entirely destroyed, Sam and Tucker both fully expected him to keel over.

#8-ardent (eager)

She had personally been on the fence about the whole ghost issue, at least until that stupid ghost kid and his dog had ruined her life. Then she hated them. Oh, how she hated them!

_No_, Valerie decided, she more than hated them. They had yet to invent a word for how much she loathed ghosts! If she had her way, they would all be melted into nothing more than a pile of ectoplasmic goo!

And now she could see that dream into reality, she thought as she looked into the newest box delivered from Wisconsin. Bless Vlad, whoever he was. Thanks to him, she could make all ghosts pay!

#9-ascetic (self-denying)

The day of the career fair was bitter sweet for Danny Fenton. On one hand, he got to spend the entire day listening about the astronaut program, his dream since he'd been old enough to have a dream. But on the other hand, he was constantly reminded of the high acceptance standards. Maybe if he quit ghost hunting, spent every spare hour tutoring with his sister...

His ghost sense went off, forcing him to sneak out of the gym and do battle with a particularly nasty spectre with blades for arms. Valerie had already been knocked out, the ghost ready to land the final blow when Danny arrived.

That night, Danny packed up all his NASA posters and shuttle models. It almost killed him to put that box away, to finally admit that those dreams would never come true, but there were still too many powerful ghosts showing up for him to quit, ghosts that only he seemed to be able to handle. In the grand scheme of things, his dreams were just not important.

#10-attainment

There would always be critics and xenophobes, people who hated him simply because of who and what he was, but those people grew less in number and easier to ignore as years went by. By the same token, his supporters and advocates grew. No longer did he have to dodge blasts by his own parents or hear insults as he flew by. By sheer determination, he had earned the people's respect and appreciation. They trusted him now, and knew he would keep them safe no matter what it cost him personally.

No, he had never asked to be a hero, but he was anyway, and now everyone knew it.

A/N: So...like it? Hate it? This is my first foray into something like this, so I'd really like to know how it went. Let me know if you want me to do some other letters. R&R Please!!


	5. 10 words starting with B

A/N: Same deal here as the last chapter, only all the words start with B.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Oh my gosh! I just realized that I used an exact line from another person's fanfiction in word #1. Before anyone reports me for abuse, you should know that I went back and fixed the problem as soon as I realized it was there, it should be ok now. Apologies to Epona Harper, I swear it was a total accident. Also, kudos for giving me the inspiration for word # 1 in her excellent fanfiction, 'The Ghost and the Machines'. If you haven't checked it out yet, you totally should!

**#1-Ballistic**

To this day, Danny can't figure out how his parents got the school to buy Fenton ectocookers for the cafeteria. Never mind that the bugs were far from worked out, or that those same ectocookers had turned last year's Christmas turkey into a rampaging ghostly monster, now they were going to feed several hundred teenagers a day.

Screams and crashes greeted Danny as he entered the room. Everywhere he could see, people's lunches had suddenly grown fangs, feet, and an aggressive personality. In short, pandemonium. In the corner, Dash and the rest of the jocks were trapped on their table, while their own burgers snapped at their feet. Paulina was making impressive amounts of noise while fleeing her pizza slice, and Mr. Lancer was trying desperately to restore order.

Sitting at the trio's regular table, Sam watched with amusement as Tucker wrestled with his sandwich. Smiling broadly, she took another forkful of her salad.

**#2-Barren**

Concerning the Guys in White, there was an interesting distinction between their opinion of their chosen colour scheme, and the opinion of those whom they hunted. For the GIW, white was the colour of purity, of good. White was the colour the winners always wore in the old westerns, white was the colour of the knight that would rush in and save the day. In short, the white colour scheme marked them as the good guys. Even though the uniforms were almost impossible to keep clean and were far from practical, the metaphorical value of the colour made those in charge loath to change it.

Ghosts however, had a different take on the immaculate attire of their enemies. White was the colour of bleached bone in the desert, of salty plains on which nothing would grow. White was cold and dispassionate, like the protocols the GIW were so concerned with. White was winter. It was a common saying among ghosts (especially those weak enough to be threatened by the GIW) that they might be dead, but the Guys in White were the ones without life.

**#3-Belated**

Danny tried to be on time for class most days, he really did. Unfortunately for him, the realities of his life as a halfa rarely allowed him to do so. It had been bad enough in the beginning, but it was even worse now. The ghosts had somehow discovered that anywhere between 9 AM and 4 PM was particularly inconvenient for Danny, and so had made every effort to attack the town between those times. It was getting so bad that Danny sometimes thought that going to school at all was a waste of effort. Last Thursday he had missed at least part of every single one of his classes. Besides the obvious problem of missing his education, it was also getting very difficult to have his teachers accept his excuses.

After the first little while, Danny had thought to simply leave the ghost's alone while he was in school, he would deal with them after four. But when he came home to see his father's arm in a cast (he had gotten hurt fighting Skulker while Danny had been in Geography), he changed his mind.

Sam and Tucker tried to help as much as they could, but there was only so much they could do. Besides, there was no point in all of them missing their education.

"Mr. Fenton! Late again! See me after class."

Danny sighed in resignation before making his way to his desk. Some days, it just didn't pay to be him.

**#4-Benign**

Mr. Lancer was halfway through his weekly essays when he heard a giggle behind him. Every muscle in his back tensed. He was alone in his apartment, and as far as he knew, the door was locked. Whipping around to face the intruder, the lecture died on his lips. There was no one there. Passing it off as his imagination, Mr. Lancer turned back to his essays. Later that night, he was getting ready for bed when he could've sworn he heard it again. Once again he whipped around, and once again, there was no one there.

Now, despite popular thought, Eric Lancer was neither stupid nor oblivious. Living in the ghost capital of the world, such events inevitably led his thoughts to a ghost. _But no_, he decided. _A ghost would've attacked by now_. Putting the matter from his mind, the overweight teacher went to sleep.

Outside the apartment, the spectre of a little girl watched Mr. Lancer sleep.

"You had enough fun yet?" Phantom's voice called from behind her.

The girl sighed. "Do I have to go back already? I just like watching them you know."

She turned to see the halfa floating behind her. His expression was not unkind.

"I know." He smiled. "But you should go home, your parent's will be worried."

Taking the young girl's hand, Phantom led her gently toward the portal. Kitty and Johnny would have his hide if anything happened to their daughter.

**#5-Bituminous (burning with a smoky flame)**

Danny choked on the smoky fumes. "Where are you?" He yelled, despite the smoke trying to suffocate him. Flames rose up on either side of him like some hungry monster as he flew down the apartment building hallway.

"Come on," He whispered frantically. "Give me something."

He wasn't concerned for himself, with his ice powers and intangibility, he should be fine, but he knew that whoever was trapped in the burning building wouldn't last much longer. The fact that the initial cries had gone silent was not a good sign.

He flew through another door, examining the room as quickly as he dared. He was about to give up and try the next one when he noticed a large lump next to the window. Rushing over, he picked up the young man, but he knew it was too late before he even took off. He had failed, he hadn't been quick enough!

For the next few days and weeks, Danny pushed himself harder than ever before. If he wasn't at school or patrolling, he was training, pushing both his body and powers. His friends and sister were worried he knew, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He had failed and some innocent had died because of it. He wouldn't fail again.

**#6-Blatant**

Danny leaned on the wall, looking down at his friend. The techno geek was fully focussed on the paper in front of him. "Aren't you being just a little obvious?" He asked Tucker with a raised eyebrow.

Tucker looked up from his work in righteous indignation. "For your information Danny, there is nothing obvious or cheesy about this. This happens to be a classy method by which young men (such as myself) can find a potential date."

"Uh huh," Danny sounded less than convinced. "You're telling me that this will help you get a date with the girl of your dreams."

"Without a doubt dude." Tucker then proceeded to return to writing his classified ad. "How do you spell sophisticated?"

"D-E-S-P-E-R-A-T-E." Danny deadpanned.

"Thanks man...Hey!"

**#7-Blip**

Clockwork made it a habit to stay out of normal temporal affairs as much as possible, it took a pretty significant event to get him out of his tower. Most of the time, he simply watched. It was amazing how many people lived their entire lives, raised families, and died, all without causing a single ripple in the time stream. Most people were like this, indistinct from the millions like them, ordinary. They did nothing of appreciable merit, and would be forgotten quickly. Such people did not even garner the time master's attention, not even for a minute.

Other people, however, were world-changers. These were the people that stood out, these Clockwork watched and sometimes, even, interfered. It had been so with Churchill and Washington, and so many others. Despite what the Observants liked to believe, he had been paying attention to Danny Phantom long before they came to 'discuss' the boy's future. Danny was one of Clockwork's specials. In fact, he was more special than most. His presence in the time stream did more than just stand out, it was like a depth charge in the flow of time. He was the first of his kind, a powerful entity. He would do more than just create ripples. Danny Phantom was going to change the world, and Clockwork was going to enjoy the show.

**#8-Botanical**

Danny had never been the most environmentally minded person, which was interesting considering that one of his best friends was probably one of the biggest tree huggers out there. Between him and Tucker (who was even less environmentally minded than Danny was), Danny was surprised that Sam didn't just go crazy.

Danny had never really paid the natural world much thought. He was an urban raised kid and, honestly, he had more to worry about with all the ghost attacks that whether or not some forest thousands of miles away was being cut down. Maybe it was selfish and naive, but he could never understand why the natural world was so great.

Then he took a walk with Sam through the park. Listening to her describe the plant and animal life around them, watching her eyes light up with a passionate sparkle that made the usually dour Goth glow with beauty, Danny thought that just maybe he understood.

**#9-Brunt**

Sam and Tucker were the best friends I guy could have, Danny thought as he flew away from the school. He was technically supposed to be in class, but the ghosts usually didn't respect school hours. He would've been stuck, except that his two best friends in the whole world had covered for him.

It wasn't fair really, Sam and Tucker's lives had both turned upside down just because their best friend had been stupid enough to check out the unoperational portal. This wasn't their fight, or at least, it shouldn't be. The fact that they often took the greatest hits for him really made him guilty. Not physical hits of course, those were solely his domain. Although Sam and Tucker sometimes got hurt, it was minor compared to the abuse Danny took on a daily basis. If he wasn't a halfa, with incredible durability and healing powers, he would probably be dead. No, the hits they took were the social kind. It was always them who lied, covering for him, it was they who helped him patrol, even though the risk was much greater to them and they should've been doing homework instead. And whenever Danny made a mess during one of his fights, it was usually Sam and Tucker that had to clean it up.

He didn't deserve them, he really didn't.

**#10-By-line**

It was a first in world history, an event that had never happened before and will probably never happen again. The day after the Disasteriod crisis, with everyone just getting over the idea that they were still here and not floating around as random pieces of space dust, every newspaper, in every city around the world, had the same front-page story.

In more languages to count, the story was told, of how a single teenager coaxed the entire ghost nation to his side, and by his side they saved the world. It told of courage, insurmountable odds, and a previously unappreciated hero that had helped the human race over and over again, with few rewards in return. It was something out of science fiction novels and comic books.

In short, it was newspaper gold. In almost every city in which the story was run, newspapers sold out. Everyone wanted to know about this mysterious ghost-boy to whom they now owed their lives. Danny Phantom was a household name.

Meanwhile, back in Amity Park, the famous hero hadn't even looked at a paper. He was too busy enjoying time with his family, his best friend, and newly turned girlfriend. Although he had never really put much stock in karma, or any of those 'what goes around comes around' concepts, he was glad that, at least for the moment, fate had decided to give him a happy ending.

A/N: Oh my gosh! I just realized that I used an exact line from another person's fanfiction in word #1. Before anyone reports me for abuse, you should know that I went back and fixed the problem as soon as I realized it was there, it should be ok now. Apologies to Epona Harper, I swear it was a total accident. Also, kudos for giving me the inspiration for word # 1 in her excellent fanfiction, 'The Ghost and the Machines'. If you haven't checked it out yet, you totally should!


	6. 10 words starting with C

**A/N: Thank you to everyone that reviewed, I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much as the last ones.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**#1-Canker (something that destroys by gradually eating away)**

He was alone.

He had his friends, and he had Jazz of course, but as hard as they tried, there were some things with which they just couldn't help him. They might try, they might even comprehend what his problem was, but at the end of the day, they were human and he wasn't. There were some things that only another halfa could understand.

Unfortunately, of the two other halfas in existence, one was his arch-enemy and the other he only rarely saw. So, for all intents and purposes, he was alone.

It was the sort of thing that wore on a person, and there were some days that all he wanted to do was scream until his throat was raw, then crawl under the bed and hide from the world. He could still remember Spectra's words as she pinned him, helpless, against the wall. "_What are you anyways, a ghost trying to fit in with humans? Or a creepy little boy, with creepy little powers?"_ Danny didn't know, but he desperately wished that there was someone he could ask.

**#2-Cauterize**

Danny's flight faltered against his will, forcing him to correct his course with a low growl. He could feel the ectoplasm dripping sluggishly from the deep wound in his side, given to him courtesy of a particularly vicious ghost wolf. Despite his best efforts, his eyes kept closing of their own accord and he kept losing altitude. He _could not_ lose consciousness. He _could not _lose consciousness. Danny kept repeating the mantra as he flew. He had lost a lot of ectoplasm, way too much, and if he didn't get home soon, he was toast. It was with great relief that he saw Fentonworks loom ahead of him and he practically dove into his room. He turned back involuntarily almost the moment he landed.

Lying human on the floor, Danny saw the growing pool of fluid around him gain a red cast as his now human blood joined the mix. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he was in trouble; he didn't even have the energy to call to Jazz. He had to stop the blood flow before he bled out. Looking at his hand, he willed an ectoblast into being. Even from here, he could feel its heat. This was really going to suck, but at least it would keep him alive until his sister found him.

**#3-Convey**

Sam Manson was not by nature a shy or timid girl. If she had something to say, she said it, and didn't really care much if you liked whatever it was she said. Some called her blunt, even rude, but she left no one in doubt over how she felt over any given situation.

Which was why it was so incredibly, **unbelievably** frustrating that whenever she went to say one particular thing, she ended up stuttering like some shallow airhead. She hated it. This wasn't her, this was something that spoiled mall-rats like Paulina and Star did, not her. It wasn't even as if he had made it hard for her, she could count several instances off hand where he had practically begged her to tell him. Nocturne, Pariah Dark_..."If you have something you want to tell me, now might be an excellent time to do it."_

But somehow, the words just wouldn't come out.

**#4-Chameleon**

If there was one thing that years of running from Vlad had taught her, it was the ability to blend. She could be anyone, go anywhere. In many ways, in her opinion, this put her one up on her 'cousin', hero though he might be. After all, for all of his skill, all of his power, Danny didn't really do 'subtle' all that well. Dani, on the other hand, used subtlety every day. Before she was stabilized, she couldn't just throw her power around like her cousin did; she had been forced to learn other means. How to sneak into a building for shelter instead of phasing, how to dismantle security cameras without blasting them and how to persuade people without resorting to overshadowing. Even though she now had full access to her powers whenever she wanted, she had no intention of losing those early lessons. They were far too valuable to forget.

**#5-Citrus**

Every ghost in existence had an obsession. This was a well documented fact. Skulker was obsessed with hunting, Technus couldn't resist anything electronic, and the Box Ghost was fairly self explanatory. Even halfas weren't immune to this most basic of ghostly traits (much as Danny denied it). Plasmius, of course, was obsessed with their mother. Danny's obsession, while decidedly more noble and less obvious, was there none the less. It masked itself as simply being a hero complex, but Danny was obsessed with helping people. It didn't matter how big or small the task was, or even if he was recognized for his efforts, he couldn't ignore a cry for help.

Some obsessions were based on previous life experiences, or in the manner of the spirit's death, but some obsessions Jazz just couldn't figure out. Some were frightening, some were understandable, and then there were some that were downright ridiculous.

Jazz tried desperately to keep from laughing as Danny walked in the door, covered in what looked and smelled like orange juice. "Not a word." He warned before stomping up to his room. Jazz made absolutely sure he was out of hearing before breaking down into uncontrollable giggles.

**#6-Clan**

They were more than friends, more than best friends even. It went beyond the fact that Danny and Sam were now romantically involved, or that Danny and Tucker had known each other almost since birth, or that Jazz and Sam could never agree on how to do something. It went beyond the fact that they were such different people, almost opposites. They were family; they were a team. It was the sort of camaraderie seen only among soldiers, the sort of bond formed between people who fought side by side for years, sometimes against unbelievable odds, but never giving up and never letting anyone else of the group give up either.

Even years later, it only took a word from any one of the group to bring all of Team Phantom running. If you messed with one of them, you messed with all of them. It didn't matter how far away they were or how different their lives became, they would always be there for each other, period.

**#7-Complete**

There were several times which, by accident or design, Danny's two halves had separated. It was interesting to note that, in each of these cases, trouble soon followed. Both halves simply couldn't function in the same way as the whole if they were separated, and that led to problems. In the case of the Fenton Dreamcatcher, not only Danny's genetics had been split, but his personality traits as well. In the case of the disastrous future which had given birth to Dark Dan, the problems with splitting the halves was obvious.

In the most recent, and final attempt, Danny had rid himself of his ghost half entirely during the Disasteriod crisis. At the time, he thought that it would solve all of his problems, and in many ways it was great. He could actually get enough sleep and hand in his work on time. But in other ways, it felt horribly wrong. Danny never mentioned it to his parents or friends, but the entire time he had been human, he had felt like something was missing, a full body ache that he was pretty sure would've driven him crazy before too long. It was probably at this time that he finally understood. He would never be able to abandon his ghost half. Phantom was part of him and he was part of Phantom. Separating the two was like cutting out an integral part of himself. They were two sides of the same coin, two halves of a whole.

**#8-Crater**

The experiments that Jack and Maddie Fenton performed were often dangerous, and more often than not, led to large explosions and destruction of property. It was because of this that they had almost the entire street to themselves. No one wanted to live within a five house radius of Fentonworks, the risk that you would wake up with a smoking hole in your wall or your roof blown off was simply too high for most people to risk.

The two Fenton children, however, had become somewhat immune to the risks. How else would Danny feel comfortable coming home to a house where numerous weapons built for the sole purpose of hunting his kind were stored? Still, it was with some annoyance that Danny looked at

the smoking hole where his bike used to be.

"I don't understand it." His father scratched his head, looking at the newly designed ecto-gun in his hand. "It shouldn't have been able to shoot at anything unless it had an ecto-signature."

Completely ignoring the fact that he had just vaporized his son's only method of transportation, Jack went back into the house. Danny just sighed and transformed. _I guess I'm flying to school for the next couple of days_.

**#9-Cretaceous**

Danny gagged on the hot, smelly air and willed his legs not to buckle. He desperately tried to keep his balance in spite of the lashing tongue that was trying to force him down the ghost T-Rex's throat. A grimace of disgust made its way onto Danny's face. He had been in some unpleasant situations before, but this had to take the cake.

It had all began normally enough, with some ghost showing up, looking like he had just stepped out of Crocodile Dundee. Turns out, this particular spectre had been a palaeontologist in life, and had followed the normal gloating and insult trading by conjuring up several very real and very hungry ghost dinosaurs.

The tongue came dangerously close to knocking Danny off his balance. Deciding that enough was enough, Danny's eyes turned icy blue, and he shot a beam of ice into the roof of the dino's mouth. Instant frostbite. Roaring in fury and pain, ghost-dino spit Danny back out onto the street.

Danny sat up, bleeding in several places, his costume ripped and covered in steaming saliva. "Where do these guys come from?" He asked the air, flicking the slime off his hands.

**#10-Cyclone**

Given the myriad of powers at his friend's disposal, Danny really wasn't the type of person you wanted angry at you at any time, Tucker thought. Every month, every year that went by, Danny seemed to get stronger. Ghosts that once would have left them fighting for their lives were, if not easily, than confidently dealt with.

However, there was a certain point where you really, _really_ didn't want Danny angry at you. A certain line that, when crossed, gave Danny a feral light in his eyes and an expression so grim, that you were surprised that whoever he was glaring at didn't just fall down right there. One of the best ways to reach this point was to threaten someone that Danny loved. Heaven help anyone who put Danny's family or friends in danger. Whenever this had happened, Tucker had seen a frightening change in his friend. No longer was he mild mannered Danny Fenton, or even ghostly hero Danny Phantom, he was a force of nature. Inevitable, unstoppable. When he was well and truly ticked off, Danny was terrifying.

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it, hit the review button please! Just to give you some incentive (as well as making my job easier), I'll be accepting suggestions for words for me to write about. I've already done D, but if you want to include some words starting with E in your review, I'll certainly see what I can do! I look forward to your input.**


	7. 10 words starting with D

AN: 10 words that start with D. I hope you enjoy it. As always, I own nothing that you recognize.

**#1-Dais**

On its own, there was nothing very special about that particular table. Like all the others in the cafeteria, it was surrounded by plastic chairs and had just as much gum stuck on its underside. It was not just any table though; it was the most valued location in all of Casper High. Most students who passed through the school doors spent their entire high school career dreaming of the moment where they would do something to earn a place at the illustrious table.

This was where the A-List held court. Surrounded by their jealous and awed peers, the A-List behaved as though the entire school was theirs. Everyone wanted to be part of them, everyone wanted to be them. Everyone wanted a place at that otherwise completely ordinary table.

**#2-Dasterdly**

"You will never defeat me with your cylindrical container of DOOM! For I am the Box Ghost!"

Danny just cocked an eyebrow and turned intangible to avoid the boxes hurtling towards him. Seriously? He was missing school for this? Mr. Lancer was about one unexcused absence from failing him, but instead of being in class trying desperately to avoid that embarrassing footnote to his high school career, he was stuck wasting time on the one ghost **no one** was afraid of.

Letting out a great sigh, Danny reached behind his back for the thermos. Better to get this over with as quickly as possible and try to minimize the academic damage.

Later that night, the Box Ghost paced restlessly in his lair. Phantom would pay for this latest affront, oh yes, he would. The Box Ghost was going to come up with a plan that would leave the halfa shaking in fear. For he was the Box Ghost, the master of all things cardboard and square, none could stand against his AWESOME might.

Passing by the lair outside, Technus shook his head as he heard the Box Ghost's maniacal laughter. "And people call me crazy." The master of technology muttered before floating away.

**#3-Deviant**

In another place, another time, Clockwork did not save Danny's family on that fateful day of the Nasty Burger explosion. After capturing the evil future version of himself in the thermos, Danny tried to reach his helplessly restrained loved ones, but failed. He was left alone.

However, his glimpse into the future had left its mark. Even if his family was gone, even if every moment left him feeling as if he had been ripped up inside, Danny had promised that he would never allow himself to turn into **that**. And so, it was to the bafflement of many that the newly orphaned Danny Fenton had disappeared from his hospital room a mere hour before his new guardian, Vlad Masters, was to collect him. Although Phantom continued to be seen for years afterward, not only in Amity Park but around the world, Danny Fenton was never heard from again.

**#4-Design**

A loud curse rang through the Fenton kitchen as yet another piece of crumpled paper was thrown at the already overflowing garbage can. Grabbing a fresh piece of paper and re-sharpening his pencil, Jack sat down to start from scratch. This would be the pinnacle of his inventing genius, it had to be perfect.

He laboured at that table for hours, drawing each line, writing each footnote with excessive care. He barely noticed when Jazz came home from school, or when Danny came in a few hours later (desperately trying to hide a limp). So engrossed was he, that he almost forgot to get up and fix himself his normal pre-dinner snack.

Finally, after hours of exhaustive toil, it was ready. Almost bouncing up and down in his excitement, Jack leapt up from the table and ran down to the lab, ready to begin construction on the world's first **ecto-fudge maker**! This was going to be great!

**#5-Dilute**

Like most genetic traits, Danny's ghost powers were passed on through his bloodline. Because he was part ghost, so would his children be, and their children, and so one. However, the continuing mix of more and more human genetic material lessened those ghost powers as time went on. Danny's children were quite nearly as powerful as he was, but their children were less so. By the time his great-grandchildren were born, the power needed for the Ghostly Wail had been lost, and within a few more generations, the descendants of Danny Phantom possessed only the most basic of powers.

For anyone with an understanding of biology, this is a most expected and normal result, however, ever so often something completely unexpected and inexplicable would happen. Once a generation, no matter how far down the bloodline they were from the original Phantom, a Fenton child would be born with the full range of power available to his or her ancestor, a fully fledged halfa.

Science is at a loss to explain how a phenomenon that should have long ago bred out keeps popping up with such frequency. In the end though, it doesn't matter. What matters are the results, a long string of protectors, sworn to the safety of their town and their world, all bearing the name of Phantom.

**#6-Disease**

Danny sat alone in his room, curled into a miserable ball on the floor. He could hear his parents downstairs, puttering around in the lab, the sounds interspersed with the occasional small explosion.

_Mom, Dad, I have something I need to tell you._

It had been two weeks since he had exposed himself. Two weeks since the constant lies, the stress of the secret had become too much. It had finally just burst out of him one night, like a soda bottle that had been shook too long.

_We still love you Danny. You're our son._

He had known that they would, the debacle with the reality gauntlet had proved that. Still, he should've known better than to assume that it would be the end of it, that two life-long ghost hunters would just up and welcome the fact that their son was now half-ghost.

_Don't you worry Danny. We're going to get you through this. We'll get that ghost out of you if it's the last thing we do._

"I'm not sick!" Danny screamed, finally having enough. "I don't need a **cure**!"

The temperature in the living room plummeted as he clenched his fists. His green eyes glared at the two adults before him.

His mother stepped forward, her face confused and hurt. "Danny...please...we just want to help you. We love you."

"You want to rip out my ghost half." Danny spat. "That's not 'helping'!"

Unable to take anymore, the halfa turned invisible and shot vertically into his room. He didn't bother to turn on the lights, they mostly hurt his eyes now anyway. He just stood there for a moment, motionless.

_Whether you're ghost, boy, or something in between._

With a choked cry, Danny collapsed to the floor. He gathered his knees to his chest, desperately trying to muffle the sound of his sobs. Downstairs, he could hear his parents arguing before they returned to the lab.

_We want to help you...We love you._

Phantom couldn't just be cut out like his parents wanted. He **was** Phantom. Phantom was part of him. He didn't need to be 'cured'.

_Whether you're ghost, boy, or something in between._

Danny clutched he knees desperately, trying to bury his face deeper. "I'm not sick." He whispered to the empty room. "I'm not sick."

**#7-Divine**

It was a muggy, overcast day. Everything seemed darker and gloomier somehow, the humidity pressing down with smothering force while thunderstorms raged in the distance. By the football field of Casper High a large group of teenagers had gathered, cheering and groaning in appropriate spots to the show they were currently enjoying. Jazz, however, wasn't enjoying the spectacle in the slightest.

Danny's newest foe was deadly, there was no question of that. Fast and agile and with an impressive power level, Danny was barely holding his own. Jazz let out a profound wince as her baby brother was forcibly thrown into one of the football goal posts. He rebounded with a loud **bboonngggg **to land hard on the ground. His sister held her breath until he stirred with a groan and a curse.

Jazz was not a religious person by nature, she much rather looked to science to explain her questions about the world. Standing on that field though, watching her brother launch back into the heavy air and knowing that, if it came to that, Danny would sacrifice himself without hesitation to protect the people watching, for the first time in a very long time, Jazz prayed.

**#8-Docket**

Walker looked at the list in front of him with something approaching glee. This was, by far, his favourite time of day, the time where the daily list of offences was passed on to him for his consideration. It was possibly only surpassed in his estimation by the events of the next day, when the criminals guilty of these offences would be told their sentences.

Although it would be tempting at first glance to say that Walker's ghostly obsession was the law, this would be completely untrue. Walker wasn't above cheating a bit himself, if it served his needs. No, Walker was obsessed with power. He loved having more power than his prisoners, loved having them helpless in his hand. He loved the feeling of being able to crush any one of them whenever he felt like it.

To Walker, the list in front of him was much more than just a list of offences, it represented the power he had over these perpetrators. With a sadistic smile, Walker picked up the list and considered the first case.

**#9-Duplicate**

Although Danny had a myriad of powers, perhaps the most disturbing to experience was duplication. I mean, sure it was a little odd to see energy blasts coming from his gloved hands, and flying might have felt unnatural if it hadn't been so darn cool, but there was nothing really as odd as being in two places at the same time.

Tucker had once asked him to describe what it felt like, and he had been hard pressed to do so. It was a little like having double vision, but at the same time it was utterly different. When Danny had a duplicate, he was able to see, think, and feel everything that his duplicate did. His duplicate could experience different things than he did, but at the same time, they were the same person. It was more than a little odd to have his duplicate say something, to tell his lips to form the words, then feel a mouth other than his own carry out the order.

The first time he had duplicated successfully, he had nearly reabsorbed the copy out of shock. Two mouths, four eyes, twenty fingers, the sheer sensory overload had been enough to drive a person insane. Even now, knowing that duplication gave him a huge edge in battle, he still had to take a moment to brace himself before the split.

**#10-Dwarf**

He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. It goes against every code, every expected behaviour of a hero. His public image was already too fragile to alienate any supporter, no matter how Danny felt about them personally.

Danny kept repeating these reasons to himself, hoping that one of these times it would actually sink in. He looked down at the Fenton Crammer in his hand. Nope, trigger finger was still itchy. Really the best thing would be to get Dash out of here as quickly as possible, before Danny succumbed to the temptation fate had just given him. He started to suggest just that.

"Hey, why don't we go stuff Fenton's head in a toilet?" The larger teen started snickering at the thought. "You know...just for giggles?"

That tore it. Screw heroics! Danny's finger lingered just a second more before pressing the trigger. He couldn't help the smirk of satisfaction at Dash's shrunken whine.

"I don't do puny!"

A/N: Ok, I admit it. Number 6 got way away from me...like crazy away from me. It turned from a 100-250 word snippet to a full 400 word ficlet. I have no idea how that happened. Still, I really liked how it turned out. As always, let me know what you think. I'm also taking suggestions for the next chapters. If you can think of a word that you would like me to do, please send it to me! I'm more than willing to take inspiration where it's offered.

Also, to those who don't know and are interested, I have finally gotten the sequel to 'What I've Always Wanted' up. It's in the crossover section, under DP/ST: TNG crossovers if you want to check it out. Thank you so much for reading!


	8. Crossover to go to a good home

A/N: Taking a break from the alphabet meme for a chapter or two. This is a DP cross with Justice League (the cartoon, not the comics). I've always loved the idea for this crossover. Unfortunately, there aren't nearly enough of them out there. I've had this kicking around on my computer for about the last year, intending on making it into a full story, but I began the next chapter and promptly developed a writer's block that I can't seem to shake. Therefore, I am putting this up in my collection of one-shots and officially putting it up for adoption. Anyone who is interested, please PM me.

Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing that you recognize.

* * *

It was inevitable really that they should meet at some point. After all, they lived on the same world and were all in similar lines of work, though Danny was oriented more towards the supernatural than criminals and alien threats. Actually, now that he thought back on it, it was shocking that they hadn't met before. There were, after all, some members of the Justice League that also dealt almost solely in the lines of the supernatural. Even with the overlap, however, it was several years after Danny got his powers before Phantom met another hero at all, and it had been completely by accident.

"I've got you now Whelp!"

Danny dodged Skulker's missile with the ease of long practice, but instead got hit with a sonic fist, courtesy of Ember's guitar. It had taken them a few years, but the ghosts of Amity Park had finally figured out that they might have a better chance against Phantom if they all teamed up. Unfortunately for Danny, this meant that he was currently fighting Skulker, Technus, and Ember, while at the same time being dangerously close to missing his curfew...again. In short, the sixteen year old was one very unhappy halfa.

"I so don't have time for this." He muttered as he dragged himself out of the asphalt crater he had just dug with his face. He was bruised, tired, and now he was very angry.

He flew back up to face the three gloating menaces. "You guys are really starting to irritate me." He snarled, his fists glowing a dangerous shade of green. "Last chance to go home quietly."

"Forget it, Dipstick!" Ember shot back, sending another fist sailing towards the floating teenager.

Danny was ready for it this time though. Dodging underneath the audio based attack, he let loose with a series of rapid fire ectoblasts. They didn't do much damage against the three destructive ghosts, but they weren't truly meant to. The three flinched back, blinded and distracted by Phantom's attacks. Taking advantage of his enemies' temporary confusion, Danny grabbed Ember by the throat, at the same time ripping the guitar from her hands. Thus disarmed, the ghostly singer had little defence as Danny turned and hurled her towards Technus. The technological ghost's eyes went wide, but he had no time to go intangible, and the two were sent sailing into a nearby building at an impressive velocity.

With two opponents at least temporarily out of the fight, Danny turned to see Skulker rushing back into the fray. Danny knew he had to make this quick. As the most dangerous of the group, he wanted Skulker taken care of by the time the other two had recovered.

Setting up a shield to deflect the incoming missiles, Danny made to meet Skulker's charge head on. Right before the two collided however, Danny suddenly went intangible, allowing the ghostly hunter to pass right through him. Danny noted Skulker's expression of denial and outrage with a smirk as the hunter's momentum carried him beyond the halfa. He quickly turned in order to meet Phantom's inevitable attack, but Danny was faster. Already twisted in the air to that he was once again facing his adversary, Danny had already reached behind his back and pulled out the Fenton thermos. Before Skulker could even think of attacking, the blinding light had already engulfed him. With the dangerous ghost safely captured, Danny took a moment to catch his breath.

"One down," He muttered. "Now for the other two."

Looking cautiously around, he made his way to the last place he had seen Ember and Technus. Fortunately, the two were still lying dazed at the base of the building Danny had thrown them into. They barely had the faculties to yell denials as the thermos' beam hit them and they were sucked inside the cursed device.

As the adrenaline of the battle wore off, the newest of Danny's scrapes and bruises made themselves known. His shoulder ached where he had hit a telephone pole, and the stinging on his face indicated he had several deep scrapes, a fact that was confirmed when he touched his cheek, only to have his hand come away covered with his unique mix of blood and ectoplasm. Looking at his bloody hand, Danny groaned. He had become very good over the years at hiding all but the most severe of his injuries, but facial wounds were hard to conceal. His advanced ability to heal would take care of the scrapes, but not before he got home.

Sighing quietly, he mentally gave up on making his curfew. Better to let his parents think he was late than coming home looking like he had gone toe to toe with some ectoplasmic menace...oh wait, that was exactly what had happened! Looking once more in disgust at his blood covered hand, Danny floated up and headed to Sam's. He could clean up and hang out there until the gashes healed.

It was either very late or very early by the time Danny arrived at Sam's window, so the Goth had been asleep for several hours. Thankfully, however, she was a light sleeper and was more than used to being woken by a soft tapping at her window. Waving her permission to enter, Sam slid out of bed as Danny phased into the room. Automatically looking him over for injury as he transformed back to human, Sam raised a critical eyebrow at Danny's face.

"You look terrible." She stated flatly.

Danny gave a short laugh at his friend's bluntness. "Thank you so much, I feel so much better now. " He winced as his smile pulled uncomfortably against the wounds.

Catching the glimpse of how much pain Danny was really in, Sam's expression turned to one of sympathy as she sat cross-legged on the floor and reached for the medical kit that was always under her bed. Motioning for Danny to sit in front of her, she began to examine the lacerations.

"These'll have to be stitched up or they'll scar, amazing healing powers or not." Sam mused as she disinfected the wounds. "You can't be going home with scars you didn't have this morning."

Danny nodded, his teeth clenched against the sting of the antiseptic. He offered no complaint as the girl in front of him finished with the antiseptic and threaded a needle, although he did flinch involuntarily when Sam inadvertently pulled a little too hard on one stitch.

"Sorry," She apologized immediately. Danny gave a little hitch of his shoulders to let her know it was fine.

"There." Sam said in satisfaction after several more minutes. "All finished, although we'll have to rip them out again in about an hour. Anything else?" She asked, running her eyes down him in search of obvious injuries. "You didn't hit your head hard enough to get a concussion did you?"

Danny shook his head. "I don't think so." He replied. "I've had more than a few concussions before, so I'd like to think I can recognize the symptoms. I feel fine."

Sam nodded and began to put away the kit. After everything was cleaned up, the two lay down side by side on the bed, waiting for Danny's healing to take effect.

"So," Sam began after a few minutes of silence. "We still on for tomorrow?"

Danny turned his head to look blankly at her.

Sam's expression took on a hint of exasperation. "Tomorrow? You know, that thing in the Ghost Zone that Frostbite's having? Something about the anniversary of your fight with the Ghost King? Don't tell me you forgot."

Danny's face turned very sheepish.

"You forgot." Sam concluded, rolling her eyes. "What would you do if you didn't have Tucker and me to remind you of things?"

"I'd be totally lost." Danny admitted easily. "No one could ask for better friends."

Suddenly aware of how close their faces were to each other, Sam blushed (hoping against hope that the darkness in the room would hide it) and turned her head so that she was once again facing the ceiling.

"In answer to your question," Danny broke the silence. "Yes, we are definitely still on for tomorrow."

* * *

The next day passed normally enough. Danny had gotten another lecture when he'd gotten home the night before, but luckily, his parents hadn't seen fit to ground him. Honestly, Danny was starting to think that they'd finally given up. The next morning, he left the house, met up with Sam and Tucker, and made his way to the center of unbearable torture known as Casper High.

School, likewise, was normal. Danny's grades had gone up somewhat now that he had gotten used to balancing his schedule and had his powers under control. The ban on him handling breakable objects in chemistry had even been lifted this year! Mr. Lancer was still out of shape and obsessed with becoming cool (he was also still failing miserably), and Dash was still an unbelievable jerk. All in all, the day passed with little to no reason to mark its passage.

That night, Jazz, Sam, Tucker, and Danny met up at Fentonworks to go to this shindig of Frostbite's. Thankfully, their parents had been called to a convention in a nearby town, and weren't expected home for at least two days, so they didn't have to be overly concerned about discovery. Jazz was extremely excited, so much so that she was almost vibrating as they prepped the Spectre Speeder for launch. Although she'd had the opportunity (or the misfortune, depending on one's point of view) to meet many of Danny's enemies, she had only rarely been able to meet those that he called friends. As a potential psychologist whose thesis was on ghost envy, the opportunity to actually interview a ghost without having it try to take her head off was more than enough to have her bouncing off the walls in joy. She _had_ met both Cujo and Wulf, but considering that one was a dog and the other didn't speak a word of English, interviewing them would've been beyond futile.

"Calm down Jazz!" Danny finally exclaimed in exasperation. "You jumping around like a kid isn't going to get us there any faster. You're supposed to be the mature one here, remember?"

With visible effort, Jazz managed to rein herself in just a tad. "I'm sorry Danny," She apologized. "This is just so exciting!"

Danny snorted. "Not really. Frostbite's people are pretty isolated, so they tend to overreact to anything new. Prepare to be stared at unashamedly for the next couple of hours."

"Someone's in a bad mood." Sam commented mildly. "You should probably wipe that sour look off your face before we get there. You are the guest of honour after all, these people worship you."

Danny groaned. "Please don't remind me. I hate all of this attention. I mean, I know they mean well and all that, but I'm too used to keeping secrets. Being gawked at and shown off makes me feel...I don't know...vulnerable."

"Besides," He continued. "My fight with Pariah wasn't nearly as cool as they make it sound. I wasn't some noble hero; I was a scared kid who had no idea what he was doing. It's only sheer fluke that it turned out the way it did at all."

Tucker just shrugged. "I don't think it really matters at this point. Everyone in the Far Frozen is absolutely convinced that you're the greatest thing since sliced bread. You probably shouldn't risk that friendship just because you don't like attention."

Danny sighed walked over to open the portal as his friends and sister got in the Spectre Speeder. They were probably right, he knew, he just wasn't really looking forward to this. He and Frostbite were great friends, but the rest of Frostbite's people could be a little...overenthusiastic.

As soon as everyone was safely through, the group headed off for the Far Frozen. The Speeder cut a pretty much straight line, while Danny flitted around it, first on one side, then on the other, always looking out for trouble. This part of the Zone was usually pretty safe, but it never hurt to be too careful. Although he had made several ghostly friends over the last several years, there were still plenty of ghosts in here that hated him.

The first part of the trip went fairly well. They were temporarily delayed by the Box Ghost, but that was easily handled. It wasn't until they were almost half-way there that the trouble started.

Although he was taking great care to be on his guard up until now, the conversation going on within the Speeder had distracted him somewhat, and he was paying more attention to what was being said than what was happening around him.

"You actually agreed to go out with Dash? Why?" Danny exclaimed incredulously.

"Because I thought that if I went out with him, he would be less horrible to you." Jazz replied. "You have enough on your plate without having to deal with him too."

"I'm not arguing that," Danny shot. "But you don't have to go out with the creep. I'll lose more sleep thinking of him alone with you than I ever would because of his bullying."

Before Jazz could form a reply however, an ectoblast lanced out from behind a nearby floating boulder and hit a glancing blow off Danny's shoulder. Groaning, as that was the same shoulder he had introduced to a telephone pole only last night, Danny charged his own blasts and turned around, scanning for the attacker.

"Punch it!" He ordered Tucker. "Get to the Far Frozen as fast as you can, I'll be right behind you."

The Spectre Speeder picked up speed while Danny dropped behind to guard the rear. Another blast came from a different direction but Danny, now on his guard, dodged it and charged forward in the direction of the blast. Coming approximately to the place where he thought the blast must've come from, he still saw no one, but considering that this was the ghost zone, where inhabitants habitually turned invisible, that didn't mean a whole lot.

"Where are you?" He muttered, looking warily around.

With the ease of one who often suffers surprise attacks, Danny moved before he consciously acknowledged the blast. Whipping around, he finally was able to identify his attackers.

Ember, Technus, and Skulker glared back at him.

"Come on!" Danny complained. "Twice in two days? Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Not really, Dipstick." Ember spat, absently playing with her guitar's tuning pegs. "You think we're just gonna let you get away with making fools of us like you did yesterday? No way! It's payback time!"

With that, she let loose with a sonic punch that Danny couldn't quite dodge. Dazed from the hit, he was in no condition to avoid the multitude of tentacles that now extending out of Technus' exo-suit. Before he could go intangible, Technus proceeded to fling him against the nearby boulder that the three had been taking refuge behind, staying far enough away that Danny's ghost sense didn't register them. Recovering from the impact, which had left an impressive dent in the rock, Danny looked up to see Skulker pointing several guns in his direction. Thinking fast, Danny went intangible and sank into the boulder.

"Oh no you don't Whelp!" Skulker cried, making to follow Danny through the boulder. Just as he was about to enter the rock, Danny came flying back out, fist cocked. Skulker, with no time to dodge, went flying away.

So intent were all combatants on the fight, however, that they failed to notice one of the unpredictable and unstable natural portals forming directly behind them. After Danny had at least temporarily dealt with Skulker, he turned to find the other two, only to get a sonic punch in the face. Flying backwards from the impact, he was flung directly into the path of the portal. Before anyone could do anything. The rift in dimensional space engulfed the young halfa, and then closed again as if it were never there.

* * *

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles and a full dimension away from the Ghost Zone, the Justice League was dealing with business as usual. A group of super villains had taken it into their heads to team up and steal a bank shipment. If they had succeeded, they would've gained an entire truck full of cash bills. Unfortunately for them, however, the League had gotten a tip that the job was going to go down. When the villains had forced the truck off the road and opened the back, expecting to find cash, they instead found a team of heroes.

The fight had been going extremely well. Caught by surprise by the heroes, the villains were at a disadvantage to begin with, a fact that the League was quick to capitalize on. Batman was making quick work of Cheetah, while Supergirl and Captain Atom were occupied with tying knots with Atomic Skull. It looked as if the fight would be over before it even really began, when Flash hit a piece of ice that Killer Frost, now out of the fight, had put there earlier. Unable to keep his footing, Flash went down, and looked up see that he was lying at Sinistro's feet. The villain smirked in triumph, raising his ring to deliver the coup de grace. With his teammates otherwise occupied and an ankle that Flash was pretty sure he had just twisted, it didn't look good for the speedster.

Just as he was starting to think that he was toast however, Flash's attention was drawn behind Sinistro, where what looked like a rip in the very air was forming. Flash could see a lot of green through the hole, but not much else. Before he could say anything, something human shaped came tumbling out of the rip, Flash caught a glimpse of black clothing and white hair before the strange person collided with Sinistro, probably saving Flash's life. The unexpected delay was long enough for Batman to reach his teammate's side, finishing off the power-ring wielding villain.

By the time that the Leaguers had finished off the group and Flash had been transported to the Watchtower's infirmary, the strange person (who they could now see was very young), was beginning to regain his faculties. Groaning with the pain of the several fairly major fights he had had in the last few days, Danny forced himself onto hands and knees, one hand came up to his head in an effort to make the stars go away. What had he hit?

"Hey," A female voice came from his right. "Are you Ok?" A surprisingly strong female hand wrapped around his arm, obviously in an effort to help him up.

Looking upward, he came face to face with a young, blonde woman who looked extremely familiar for some reason. Still not thinking clearly, it wasn't until he saw the S on the woman's chest that things started to fall into place. Danny's eyes went wide. Supergirl? What was Supergirl doing here? Where was he?

Whipping his head around, he saw a skyline that was definitely not Amity Park. Wrenching his arm away from the female hero in a panic (and surprising Supergirl enough that she let go), Danny spun away, assessing the group that was before him. There were several villains that the League had obviously just been in to process of stopping trussed up on the ground. Other than Supergirl, there was Batman, Captain Atom, and a flaming woman that he was pretty sure was called Fire. All of them were looking at him with expressions ranging from curiosity to suspicion.

Danny fought to keep his breathing calm. Sure these were supposed to be the good guys, in fact, they were supposedly as good as you could possibly get, but Danny had very little luck with authorities. Usually the supposed good guys were almost as gung ho about shooting him as the bad guys. Besides, most of his career had been spent under the erroneous belief that he was a villain. Therefore, there was a pretty big risk of misunderstandings here. Danny suddenly felt the urge to go invisible and intangible and just stow away on a plane back to Amity Park, and probably would have done so if it would not have looked insanely suspicious. Hopefully he could get the League to just lose interest in him here. The last thing he needed was a curious Batman on his case. Danny held no illusions, the only reason he had been able to keep his secret so long was that everyone in Amity Park suffered from chronic cluelessness. If the League got curious, the secret wouldn't last long.

Taking in the halfa's wary expression, Supergirl took a step forward, careful to keep her hands in front of her in a peaceful gesture. "Hey, it's Ok." She tried to reassure him. "We're the good guys. You helped save one of our team back there."

Danny didn't say anything, but the tensing of his muscles made the young heroine stop her advance. Hands still out in front of her, she smiled disarmingly. "What's your name?" She asked.

Batman answered before Danny could. "He calls himself Phantom..." The low, growling voice made Danny flinch back even further. He did not want this guy on his case. "...Danny Phantom. He showed up in a small town called Amity Park a few years ago. The town claims to be the most haunted place in the world, and this 'ghost boy' is their most visible haunting."

Supergirl turned her attention back to Danny, who had taken a step back. "You're a ghost?" She asked. Danny, who was used to being judged on sight, was a little surprised to hear curiosity, but no anger or fear in her voice. Then again, she was Supergirl, what reason would she have to fear a simple ghost?

"There is also," Batman continued. "A great deal of controversy over whether he is a hero or a villain. There was one particular incident in which he was accused of kidnapping the town mayor."

It was at this point that Danny felt he should probably defend himself before there was a misunderstanding. "That was so not my fault." He snapped, the first words he had yet said. "And I tried to explain that it wasn't my fault, but people have the regrettable habit of assuming that you're evil just because you bleed ectoplasm."

"So you didn't kidnap the mayor?" Captain Atom asked.

Danny shook his head emphatically. "More like he kidnapped me. He was being overshadowed, possessed by a ghost." He clarified when he was met with blank expressions from several of the group. "This particular ghost really hates my guts and decided that the best way to get back at me would be to wreck what little reputation I had. He grabbed my hands and made it look like I was holding him hostage. Everyone heard him cry for help, what they didn't see was the ectoblast he had aimed at my gut at the time." He smiled without humour. "It worked. Not that people liked me before, but they really hate me now."

"So...you're a hero." Supergirl concluded.

"That's what my friends tell me." Danny shrugged nervously, still casing every angle for a potential escape.

Batman sent a scowl at the young halfa (although from what Danny had heard, scowling was about the only expression Batman ever had). "Then you won't mind telling us how you got here." He challenged.

Despite his wary mental state, Danny snorted in disgust and waved vaguely towards where the portal had been only a moment ago. "Freak accident actually," He replied. "Three ghosts who I'm not really on good terms with ambushed me. During the fight, I was pushed into a portal that none of us had noticed forming."

"I was lucky if you can believe it." He continued. "Natural portals in the Ghost Zone are unpredictable at the best of times. I could have ended up anywhere or anywhen in the world."

He suddenly looked at the heroes, considering. "On that note, what's the date?"

Danny sighed in relief once they had answered. He had come out on the same day that he had gone in. Actually, he was a few hours behind. If he hurried, he could still get to the Far Frozen in time for Frostbite's celebration.

"Look," He said, cutting the conversation short. "Not that it wasn't great to meet you, but there's somewhere that I really need to be, so...I gotta go." Without waiting for a response, he turned invisible and took off with all speed towards the airport. Hopefully there was a plane to Amity Park that would allow him to get to the Zone in time. Sam and Tucker were never going to believe this.

* * *

A/N: Once again, the concept for this story is up for adoption to anyone who wants it. I would love to do it myself, but I have a list about a mile long of stories I want to write and haven't had time to get around to. If you're interested, please PM me. Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it!


	9. 10 words starting with E

Disclaimer: You know the drill by now. I own nothing.

* * *

**#1-Easier **

**A/N:for the purposes of this drabble, his parents know his secret**

Hiking the bag over his shoulder, Danny took one last look around. This room had been his for as long as he could remember. The bed, the books, the countless models and NASA posters, all of this was his. Stained and scored with more than 15 years of living, the four walls were familiar, comforting. A scorch mark just beside the door was a reminder of one of his very first ectoblasts. And there...by that corner...a dent from when he had kicked his sneakers off a little too enthusiastically. His floor was scuffed and worn from countless years of traffic and if he turned his head he could just see carved words on the base board beside his bed. DANNY, TUCKER, and SAM. They had been nine years old when they had carved those words.

It didn't look any different really. The only things missing were what would fit in Danny's small duffle bag. Still, the room looked somehow empty all of a sudden, somehow sad. Danny's chest tightened and he almost lost his resolve. This was home, the only home he had ever known. The thought of leaving it suddenly brought tears to his eyes and drained the strength from his legs, and all Danny wanted to do was curl up underneath his covers and pretend that everything was normal.

But it wasn't normal. The GIW had been getting close over the last few weeks...far, far too close for Danny's comfort. The last close call had come within a hairsbreadth of disaster. Even Jazz had been forced to admit that it was just a matter of time.

His parents tried to help of course. They were talking about a 'family holiday', taking a few months, letting the heat cool off...but Danny knew better. The one thing that the GIW had was persistence. They would not stop; they would keep coming, no matter how far or fast his family ran. In Danny's view, that left him exactly one option. It was better for everyone.

With a great effort of will, Danny turned away towards the window. For the first time that he could remember, the transformation was almost painful. As the light ran over his body, his chest seemed to contract into itself and he had to fight down a sob. _It's the only way,_ He reminded himself sternly, _Get it together Fenton!_

Taking a deep breath, the young halfa turned himself intangible and slipped through the glass. He stubbornly refused to look back as he floated down to the street. Two figures were waiting, just outside of the streetlights and half hidden in the gloom. He landed before them and the three didn't speak for one long moment.

"...It won't be forever." Tucker quietly assured, uncharacteristically serious. "We'll think of something...get the GIW to back off."

Danny snorted without humour, eyes locked on the ground.

Sam frowned and stepped towards him. With a gentle hand she forced him to meet her eyes. "We'll think of something." She repeated firmly. Her eyes glanced down to her and Tucker's bags, sitting on the ground beside them. "And we'll do it together."

* * *

**#2-Eccentric**

Vlad was eccentric.

Everyone agreed. Even before that lab accident he had been a little odd, a little off. He and those two friends of his, talking about ghosts and ectoplasm and things that normal people just didn't believe in. That said, he was probably the most normal in the bunch. He was the most ambitious, the most calculating. No one was surprised when he was the only one of the three who actually made something of himself.

Sam was eccentric.

Everyone agreed. With her scowl and her boots and her black in sharp contrast to her parents' bubbly, pastel hued attempt to bring back the 1950's. Coming from a rich family, she could have easily been one of the most popular girls in school. Instead, she chose to shroud herself in darkness, hanging out with her loser friends. She was the bottom of the social totem pole, only one step above the band geeks. They all shook their heads and did not understand.

Jazz was eccentric.

Everyone agreed. She was far from normal, but it was a good sort of odd. Jazz was brilliant and bubbly and as vibrant as her bright red hair. She was a shining jewel of Casper High. People smiled at her as she walked by. Her teachers all looked on with bright eyed pride. Jazz would go far...if only she could lose that fascination with ghosts. It must be genetic.

Danny was not eccentric.

Everyone agreed. Sure he came from a crazy family and his parents were nut jobs, but Danny himself was about as odd as a cold day in Alaska. He was an average, C+, non-athletic, bully magnet like a thousand others around the country. If he came to school limping, or bleeding, or disappeared at odd times, no one noticed because Danny himself was not noticeable. He was small and invisible. He was background noise.

* * *

**#3-Eczema **

**A/N: in no way is this to be construed as dismissive of how irritating or painful eczema can be, it is simply meant to mock how wholly overly dramatic some teenagers can be and the word just fit**

"It's not that bad."

"It's a disaster! Look at this! I look deformed!"

"What? How do you get 'deformed' out of _**that**_?"

"Fine, diseased then."

"Disea...Star, it's a patch of red skin."

"_**Flakey**_ red skin, my skin is falling off. I look like I have leprosy! I can't go to school like this!"

"Don't you think that you're being just a little overdramatic?"

"...and people will avoid me, and Paulina won't let me sit next to her in class. This is horrible! This is terrible! My life is over!"

"...You're ignoring me now, aren't you?"

Star just sat in her bed with the covered pulled miserably over her face. Her father sighed and turned to his wife. "Your daughter...that's all I'm saying."

* * *

**#4-Ego**

Another blow hit Danny's stomach and he doubled over in pain. All of the wind blasted out of his lungs and for a moment all he could focus on is the simple act of breathing. Glancing up, he could see Dash winding back for another hit. The fist slowed on its way to his face.

_Not again!_ Id screamed. _Hit him back. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Hit him back!_

Superego grabbed Id around the collar and shook him. _You'll expose us all. Think for a second you stupid child! We can take it. We've had worse. Can Dash say the same if we lose control? Can he take even one of __**our**__ hits?_

_We're angry_. Ego piped in from the corner. _We're hurt. We want to hurt back. We might not be able to hold ourselves back._ He nodded differentially to Superego. _I agree. We can take it._

Time sped up again. Danny had a brief second of resignation before flesh met flesh.

* * *

**#5-Endogamy (the requirement of marrying within a specific group or class)**

Sam sighed deeply, nearly tripping over her own feet for the millionth time. Give her combat boots and jeans and she could run a marathon, but heels and a floor length dress turned her into a bigger klutz than Tucker. All around her, colours flashed. Bright swaths of satin, silk, and other outrageously expensive materials flicked through the air. Their wearers floated between diplomats, actors, and other variants that made up the upper crust of society. The general murmur of conversation was broken only by the occasional laugh, a sound as false as most of the people here. In the background was the sound of a band playing in the corner. A string quartet, the music was tasteful, non-descript...and utterly forgettable.

_Elevator music._ Sam thought uncharitably, pulling at her dress again and generally feeling uncomfortable. Her eyes searched desperately for a clock. _Please let it be late enough to leave. Please let it be late enough to leave._ The clock informed her that she had only been there for an hour. ..._Damn_.

"Sammikins!" _Double damn._

Sam didn't even try to smile as she turned towards her mother. Her mother knew exactly what she thought about being dragged to this stupid thing; she had certainly vocalized it loudly enough.

Her mother met her dour scowl with a face splitting smile. Glancing to her mother's side, Sam realized she was dragging a young man about Sam's age in her wake. A feeling of utter dread settled in Sam's stomach. _Here we go again._

"There you are Sammikins!" Her mother beamed as she drew even with her daughter. "I simply _**have**_ to introduce you to this lovely young man. This is Edward Mannings...his family owns a rather large computer security firm on the West coast. There are so few young people here tonight, I thought you two could entertain each other."

Without giving her daughter a chance to refute the idea, Pamela Manson spun back into the tides of people, leaving Sam alone with the perfectly dressed braggart who was looking down his nose at her.

"A pleasure to meet you miss Manson..." Edward began, reaching for her hand.

Suddenly, he froze mid-motion. Every muscle tensed and his eyes flashed green. He straightened, his haughty expression softening into a familiar lopsided grin. "Looking good Sam." Danny's voice said with Edward's mouth.

"Danny?" Sam hissed incredulously. "What are you doing?"

Edward/Danny shrugged. "I know how much you hate these things. I _**was**_ going to fly you away when no one was watching, but this is a much better idea. At least you won't have to deal with your mom's nagging later."

He glanced over to the dance floor set up across the room. "Want to dance?" He asked, holding out his hand.

Sam's lips twitched. She met his steady, expectant look for only a moment before giving in.

"Why not?" She murmured softly, letting him lead her away. A real smile broke on her face for the first time that evening.

* * *

**#6-Enterprise**

Tucker looked out of his office window. The cityscape obscured the horizon with its massive skyscrapers. Thirty stories below, he could see the many vehicles and people that made up the life of New York City, their frantic movements looking somewhat sluggish from the great distance he observed them. _It's a far cry from Amity Park_. He thought to himself.

As he stood by the window, Tucker suddenly became aware of another in the room. There was no sound of the door, no audible sign, but the temperature dropped a few degrees and the air suddenly became charged, thrumming slightly with energy. Tucker smiled before turning around. It had been far too long since he had felt those familiar sensations.

"Hey man." He greeted his old friend. Danny gave a small smile in return. He was in Phantom form, floating cross-legged a few feet behind Tucker's desk. The years had been good to him. He had finally hit a growth spurt in the last year of high school and the many years of combat had given him muscles that filled out his costume well. His hair was still the same, perpetually a half inch too long and wild. His face had matured though, easy laugh lines beginning around his eyes and face. His eyes had grown serious and deep, years of responsibility shining through.

Right now though, he looked tired.

"Hey Tuck," He returned softly. "Been awhile."

"Yeah, well, of the two of us I'm not the one who can fly at 200 mph."

"True." Danny allowed. He dropped to the floor and triggered the transformation. Human, he walked up to Tucker and the two embraced.

Tuck pushed his friend to arms length. "I'm real sorry about your mom man, I wish I could have made it back for the funeral."

Danny waved the thought away. "It was quick, heart attacks are good for that I guess. Besides, I can't imagine the CEO of Foley Technologies would have a lot of free time."

Tucker agreed, moving to two chairs on the other side of his desk. "I was in Germany when I heard." He offered. The two old friends shifted the seats to face each other.

"Not that I don't appreciate the visit, hell knows we don't see each other enough, but I got the impression that you had something specific you wanted to talk about."

"Yeah," Danny said leaning back in his chair. "I want to sell Fentonworks to you."

Tuck's brain stuttered for a second. The thought was certainly attractive from a business sense, Fentonworks represented decades of scientific research, countless patented inventions, but still... "Fentonworks is your family's legacy," he protested. "Not to mention your base of operations as Phantom."

"Exactly," Danny nodded. "I'm not mom or dad. I'm no inventor. I can't keep Fentonworks running the way they would want it to be. But I still need it. I need the technology and the equipment."

"So you want to sell it to someone you can trust." Tucker finished.

"And someone who will let me continue to operate out of it." Danny confirmed.

Tucker thought for a moment. "Whoever I send to take over operations...you'd have to let them in on the secret."

"I trust your judgement," Danny smiled. "I'm sure you'll find someone discreet."

"And I want to keep you on as management. You can oversee operations, even if you can't do the scientific stuff. A Fenton should be the one in charge of Fentonworks."

"Partners then." Danny said, holding out his hand.

Tuckers smile widened into an all out grin and he gripped Danny's hand with old familiarity. "Partners." He agreed.

* * *

**#7-Epicocity**

"Hah! Beat that!"

"Epicocity?" Jazz sputtered, glaring indignantly at the Scrabble board. "You can't use epicocity."

"Totally can." Tucker refuted.

"Epicocity isn't a word!"

"Totally is."

"Yeah?" She challenged. "What does it mean?"

"It's the state of being epic."

"Bull! You're making it up!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"It needs to be a word in the dictionary!"

"It is in the dictionary...See!" Tucker shoved his PDA in her face.

Jazz just gaped at him for a moment. "... does **not** count."

"And why not?"

"Because they aren't real words!"

"It's still a dictionary."

"It doesn't count."

"Sam!"

"Going with Jazz on this one." Sam didn't look up from her book. "Not a word."

"Hah!" Jazz exclaimed, snatching the score paper and scratching out Tucker's last move.

"Epicocity." She snorted in disbelief.

* * *

**#8-Esoteric (meant for a only a select few/private/confidential) **

**A/N: set in the first season before Jazz figured out Danny's secret**

Mr. Lancer was not a stupid man, nor unobservant, despite popular belief. And really, one would have to be both blind and deaf not to realize that there was something seriously wrong with Mr. Fenton and his cohorts.

The three had always been loners, spurning the company of anyone save each other. Oh, they would speak and interact with other people, but there was always the feeling that you were on the outside looking in. Those three truly saw each other, everyone else was an acquaintance at best. Really, in their own way they were as cliquey and exclusive as the popular crowd.

This had always been the normal state of affairs, but it felt different now. Before, they set themselves apart through common choice and defence against the popular crowd, loathe as Lancer was to admit that such Palaeolithic strategies were necessary. But there was a different timbre to it now, darker perhaps. They gazed at everyone outside of their group with faintly veiled suspicion, clinging to each other with the desperation of dying men. They were fanatically protective, as if anything or anyone outside of the group might be a threat that would tear them apart.

It was strange, and not a little disturbing. Lancer had been a teacher for 35 years, seen the spectrum of teenage behaviour and nuance, and every instinct he had developed during that time screamed that something was _**wrong**_.

* * *

**#9-Eugenics**

Her first impression is light. Bright white light that hurts her eyes and everything's new and it's scary. And then there is a face standing over her and it has blue skin and fangs and red eyes and it's scary too, but the hands are gentle when they pick her up and he smiles.

"Welcome to the land of the living little one." He says and she stutters for a reply, reaching for words that she somehow knows even now.

"Wh...Who?"

"I'm your father." He states calmly. "Your name will be Danielle."

"Danielle." She whispers as her eyes begin to close. And somehow the word feels right.

She's three days old the first time she transforms. Up until that point she had been resting, propped up in a big comfy bed in a room so big that Daddy's footsteps echoed when he came to see her.

But then a ghost vulture pops out of the wall and it scares her and suddenly there's a funny feeling in her stomach and she's floating. Her father is ecstatic.

"Oh, well done my girl! And with no coaching at all! Oh very, very good!"

She doesn't know what exactly she's done, but Daddy is smiling again, so she thinks she might like it.

"Is everyone like us?" She asks her father. She's one week old and Daddy has made her a big supper to celebrate the occasion. "Does everyone else have a ghost form too?"

"No, of course not." He dismisses with a wave of his spoon. "They're all just humans. We're so much more special than that. We're halfas, half-ghosts."

"Oh." Danielle says thoughtfully. "So we're the only ones." The idea seems rather lonely to her.

"There's one more like us." Vlad corrects. "His name is Daniel. Your DNA is based off his."

"Will I get to meet him?"

Daddy's face gets an odd smirk to it and for a moment he looks mean. "Danielle my dear, I'm very much counting on it."

She is two months old when she meets Danny. Daddy has explained how Danny's been living with the humans and he won't leave. Daddy's tried to talk sense into him but he won't listen...but he doesn't belong with the humans and if Daddy could ever get him alone he could make Danny see that. So Dani has to bring Danny to him. Because he needs saving even if he doesn't want to be saved. Because Danny is a halfa, one of only three, and all three of them need to stick together.

Daddy said so.

* * *

**#10-Eulogy**

One day his luck will run out. Danny knows this. He doesn't kid himself. He's won his battles (and there have been many battles) but he is on borrowed time. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even next week, but one day he will fight and fall and he will **not** walk away. There is only one of him and an endless supply of bad guys. He will slip up, or make a mistake, or one day they will all join up and overwhelm him with sheer numbers. In any case the results will be the same.

He will jump into desperate battle before the entire town. In front of his friends and family and acquaintances and enemies, he will defy an entity so much stronger and larger and darker than him. He will fight and snarl and take the hits because the people below cannot afford him to lose. He will die before their eyes a hero.

He will die alone and anonymous on some routine patrol gone wrong. Skulker will get in a lucky hit or Vlad will set an ambush. He will never see it coming before he is bleeding and dying, helpless on the ground. His last sight will be his enemy's gloating face. Meanwhile, his friends and family will be waiting obliviously. They will worry when he doesn't come home, they will search and search and never find him. Only Jazz, Sam, and Tucker will ever know what happened.

He will be in the Ghost Zone while his friends look on, horrified, from the cockpit of the Spectre Speeder.

He will be in space, and his last sight of Earth will be so beautiful that it brings tears to his eyes.

He will be old.

He will be young.

His children will hold him as he slips away...or his wife...or a stranger...

...Or nobody at all.

But it will come, and it will be violent. And he will take Death's hand and look up into his cowl and ask if any of it made any difference.

And the answer will always, always be yes.

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A/N: Thank you so much for everyone who read and especially everyone who reviewed. I love every little piece of feedback I'm given. Let me know which ones you liked, or didn't like, or give me words that you'd like me to use in the next chapter. Anything you'd like to say at all!

Thank you again and I hope you enjoyed it!


	10. 10 words starting with F

Here's the next set of drabbles. Thank you to everyone who has read and/or sent feedback. Your opinions are greatly apprecuated,

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xxx

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**#1 Fabulate: to create fables or stories filled with fantasy.**

"I'm serious Danny, you have to start being more careful. Those kids almost saw you transform today."

Danny didn't respond, he just crossed his arms and leaned back sullenly. Out of the corner of her eye, Jazz snuck a look at her brother. Returning her eyes to the road, Jazz let out an explosive breath. "Danny, please say something."

"I've already said something." Danny shot back. "About five times already. You're overreacting. There was nothing I could do about it, Technus threw me into a wall remember? And honestly?...If I had lost consciousness and transformed right there I would have had more to worry about than my secret, Technus was already swooping down to finish me off."

Jazz sighed. Turning into their driveway, she wondered when life or death fights had become normal. "I know. I just worry about you."

Danny opened the door and jumped out. "And I keep telling you that you don't have to. Look, I appreciate it...I do...but I can look after myself." He spun on his heel and made for the front door, not looking back to see if she followed.

Jazz leaned back against the door of her car and watched him walk away. He was holding himself kind of stiffly. He had probably hurt his back when he hit the wall.

It seemed so strange to her, so unreal that this kind of thing was her life now. She still couldn't quite get her head around it.

_My brother is a teenage half-ghost superhero who got his powers in a lab accident. He can fly and walk through walls and shoot energy beams and he saves the town everyday while still trying to make his curfew._

It sounded like something out of a comic book. Watching her baby brother try to hide his newest injury, all Jazz could do was hope that someone up there decided that this story ended well.

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**#2 Facebar: wrestling hold in which a wrestler stretches the skin of their opponents face backwards.**

As first meetings went, the one between Sam and Dash was particularly memorable.

"OW, OWOWOWOWOW. STOP IT!" Five year old Dash bucked, desperately trying to get the crazy girl off his back. "MOMMY!"

Sam tugged on his cheeks harder. She had somehow managed to pin the larger boy on the ground and was currently sitting on his back with all ten of her sharp little five-year old nails dug into his face.

"You take it back! You take it back you big bully! Take it BACK!"

"SAM!" Pamela Manson ran over and snatched her daughter off of the larger boy.

Sam's nails dug scratches as she was pulled away. Dash's mother was immediately by his side. "Dash darling, what happened?" She asked worriedly, shooting dark looks at the still thrashing girl in Pamela's arms.

Dash sniffled. "She hurt me mommy! She jump on me and scratch me!"

"You called Danny and Tucker freaks!" Sam shrieked from her mother's arms. "You said they were bad!"

"I can't even say how sorry I am about this." Sam's mother apologized, absolutely mortified. "We'll definitely be having a talk...won't we Sam?"

Sam just scowled.

"You apologize to Dash right now."

Sam crossed her arms and glared down at the ground.

"Sam! You say you're sorry."

"Can't" Sam mumbled. "M not s'pposed to lie."

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**#3 Facilitate**

"Mr. Fenton, you will be working with Ms. Gray and Mr. Foley. Ms. Manson, with Ms. Sanchez and Mr. Baxter..."

"WHAT?" The exclamation came from all sides.

Mr. Lancer narrowed his eyes at his suddenly rebellious students. "It is not healthy for you to work in the same groups every day. Variety in your work groups will help you develop important interpersonal skills. You have your groups and I expect you to make the best of them."

Sam traded one helpless look with Danny and Tucker before moving over to the A-Listers, who were looking at her like she was something they might scrape off their shoe. There was no way that this was going to end well.

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**#4 Farsi-:the modern Iranian language of Iran and western Afghanistan, written in the Arabic alphabet; modern Persian.**

**(A/N: Furthermore...racism is bad. Let's stop judging people.)**

Afrah had become accustomed to hostility, horrible as it may seem. She had become used to people staring at her hijab, to their mocking and insensitivity. She had even become used to people crossing the street as she approached.

It was simple ignorance, she knew...the mistaken belief that all Muslims were extremists. It was a stupid, naive, utterly racist view that all too many people seemed to hold. It was that ignorance which caused otherwise rational and pleasant people to become intolerant Neanderthals. All too often, it was perfectly innocent Muslims that paid the price for their fear.

But Afrah had become used to it...which is why she couldn't believe her eyes when a black haired boy sat beside her at lunch. A few moments later, his two friends joined them and her usually empty table felt comfortably full. Afrah glanced at them out of the corner of her eye, suspicious, but Danny smiled at her and was polite and kind.

When she finally got the nerve to ask why he was being so nice, he shrugged.

"I know what it is to be judged by what, and not who, you are."

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**#5 Feminist: (continuation of Facilitate)**

Sam tried to think of any way her day could get any worse and came up empty. The assignment was to choose a significant figure in history and write a report on their impact on modern society. Unfortunately, she, Dash and Paulina had wildly different ideas of who constituted a 'significant figure'.

"We should, like, totally do Marilyn Monroe." Paulina argued for about the hundredth time. "Everyone knows Marilyn Monroe."

"She is also from this last century." Sam growled through gritted teeth. "We're supposed to _avoid_ recent personalities. I say we should do Queen Elizabeth or Catherine the Great."

"Why do we have to do a girl?" Dash asked sullenly. "We should choose someone actually important."

There was a moment of absolute silence. The air temperature in the room dropped in a way that had nothing to do with ghosts.

"What..." Paulina said in a quiet, deadly voice. "...did you just say?"

"Repeat that last sentence!" Sam demanded.

Dash looked helplessly from one to the other. Sam and Paulina absolutely hated each other. Which was actually probably a good thing, Dash thought in the back of his mind, because the two of them united in a single cause was terrifying.

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**#6 Fell (adj: fierce, dreadful, cruel)**

Dan was not a creature that second guessed himself. He was not conflicted and he was rarely indecisive. He also held no illusions. He was dark and evil and perfectly ok with that. Who needed humanity? He was stronger now, free of fear and weakness and all the things that had made him defeatable before. He was absolutely serene in his monstrosity.

If ever he thought about the time 'before', it was only with a faint sense of relief that it was over. The pain of losing everything, the constant burden of his hero complex...exhausting really. He was glad he didn't have to deal with it any more.

Yes, there was a definite sense of peace that came with knowing exactly who and what you were, even if that thing was terrible.

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**#7 Finite**

"Think about it Daniel!" Plasmius leaned over the young halfa currently strapped to his lab table. His red eyes shone. "Anything you want! Anything you have ever wanted! Money...power...popularity. Everything that should be yours by right!"

Danny said nothing, didn't even turn his head to acknowledge Plasmius above him.

Coming around to the head of the table, Vlad crouched so that he was inches away from Danny's ear. "We are different from them little badger." He murmured softly. "We are so much better you and I. You, me, Danielle...we are the start of something brilliant and new. We can make a better world...a future for our own kind."

"And have everything we've ever wanted." Danny finished flatly.

Plasmius broke into a grin. "Yes!" He exclaimed, getting to his feet. "Yes that's it exactly!"

A small smirk crossed Danny's features. "Bought the Packers yet?" He asked, twisting his head to look at Vlad.

Vlad's grin shifted immediately into a scowl of rage. Danny just shrugged, his restraints digging painfully into his arms at.

"Then I guess we're done talking." He turned back to face the ceiling.

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**#8 Flexuous (having many curves, winding)**

Danny's path was not a straight one. Oh, it started linearly enough, school, friends, family, everything that makes an average American childhood. He never really played any sports, but he had Sam and Tucker and his video games. His family loved him in their eccentric way and he did alright at school.

Then came freshmen year and his life took a strong left turn into the twilight zone.

Suddenly there were ghosts and fighting and secrets and his life was no longer so predictable. First came the superpowers, which were unbelievably cool even if he could do without the ghost fighting. He was trying to adapt to the fact that he could now **walk through walls **and learning to deal with a long stream of new enemies. Each ghost had its own weaknesses and strategies and he never knew what he would have to face anymore when he woke up in the morning.

Then, just as he was getting a grip on that, the whole Plasmius thing happened. And while he was glad not to be totally alone anymore, the fact that the only other of his kind was now his arch-enemy was a little disconcerting.

**Then** when all of that seemed to have settled down, Danny suddenly had to deal with the _**evil, jerky future version of himself**_. He had to stop _himself_ from destroying his life and everyone he cared about. I mean...come on...future version of himself...really?

Nothing was normal. Throughout the years every new power, every new enemy or challenge, added another curve to what was already a messy existence. Ultimately, the only thing you could predict about Danny's life was that it was anything but predictable.

* * *

**#9 Forfeit**

"It's certainly an impressive transcript you have Ms. Fenton. Excellent grades, extracurricular activities...everything we're looking for in a new student." The head of the Harvard Psychology Department looked over at the young red head sitting across from his desk. "I simply have to ask however...your entrance essay on 'ghost envy' was a fascinating examination of the subconscious desire for the impossible, however did you think up the topic?"

"Well," Jazz started slowly. "I grew up in Amity Park..."

"Ah yes," the Head chuckled, sitting back in his chair. "Perhaps one of the most interesting instances of mass hallucination that I've heard of in recent years."

Jazz frowned. "Sir?"

"Well the whole 'ghost sightings' phenomena of course! Can you imagine?...Well of course you can, coming from Amity yourself. A whole town, sometimes whole streets of people claiming to have seen ghosts. I actually have a colleague writing a paper on the subject. He's debating the possibility of some sort of mass hysteria, perhaps brought on by some sort of environmental factor." He shook his head as if to clear it and smiled back at Jazz. "But I digress. There should be no problems with your application from where I stand." He held out his hand for Jazz to shake. "Welcome to the faculty of Psychology."

Jazz looked at the outstretched hand. It represented everything she had ever wanted, her whole future on a plate...and all she would have to do was betray her little brother. His struggles, the sacrifices he had to make, he deserved better than to be chucked out as one more urban myth. He deserved to be acknowledged, even if it was only to admit that he actually existed. Jazz steeled her eyes and got to her feet. "Thank you for your time," She said coolly. "But I'm afraid I'll have to decline."

* * *

**# 10 Frantic**

It happened so quickly. One minute Carla Higgins had been picking through ripe apples in the produce isle, the next she had looked down to see that her 3-yr old daughter had disappeared.

Carla's heart jumped into her throat.

"Maria!" She called anxiously, whipping her head around. The girl was nowhere in sight.

"Maria!"

Apples forgotten, Carla walked towards the middle of the isle, still scanning frantically for her missing daughter.

Nothing.

Over the next 10 minutes, Carla checked every place that a 3-yr old might possibly have been attracted to. She checked behind the fruit bins and the candy isle. She checked the seafood section with its tanks of live fish and the bakery and its display of fresh doughnuts. She checked the small flower and gift section and the magazine rack.

No Maria.

Carla asked store employees and random strangers. She got customer service to put a page over the intercom.

No Maria.

By this point, her panic had grown into a desperate, icy fear. Each moment that her daughter was not with her, that fear grew until she could barely think of anything else. The store was searched, the police were called. She must have answered the policeman's questions, but she couldn't remember what they had asked. Someone had gotten her a cup of coffee at some point, but she couldn't seem to recall who it had been. All she could focus on was the fact that her daughter was gone. Her hands began to shake as her composure crumbled. Putting the cup of coffee down, Carla buried her face in her hands and started to cry.

A small hand touched hers. "Mommy?"

Carla gasped and shot up like she had sat on an electric wire. "Maria!" She exclaimed.

Without a thought she threw her arms around her daughter, holding her close. A dry sob shuddered through her body. The door burst open as policemen and store employees were drawn to her shout.

"Hey, they found her..."

"...Thank God."

"...Where'd you think she went?"

Ignoring the chatter, Carla eventually pried herself away from her daughter. "Maria, baby," she said to the confused and somewhat frightened child. "Mommy was very worried. Where were you?"

"Was'a bad man." The little girl said succinctly.

"...A bad man." Carla's grip tightened ever so slightly.

"Uh huh."

One of the policemen cautiously approached, not wanting to scare the child further. "Why didn't you scream sweetie?"

The girl looked at the stranger nervously. "He make quiet...like this." She pantomimed putting a hand over her mouth. Carla made a wordless sound of distress.

"Baby," She said, carefully keeping her voice level. "How'd you get away?"

Maria suddenly became very animated, all fear forgotten. "A ghost! Mommy, I meet a ghost! An' he had green eyes an' he made everythin' cold...but he was nice. An' he held my hand an' my tummy went funny an' he grab me from the bad man. An' Mommy, I flew!" She held her arms out to either side to demonstrate. Her little eyes shone with excitement.

Carla felt the need to sit down again. "A...a ghost?" She asked weakly. "You were saved by a ghost sweetie?"

Maria nodded emphatically. "He my **new friend**." She suddenly pointed to the window. "See Mommy? New friend."

Everyone in the room turned. The Ghost Boy was floating cross-legged in front of the glass.

"Hi!" Maria greeted, waving happily.

All the adults seemed frozen, not entirely sure how to react to the town's most infamous denizen floating not five feet away. There was a long pause as Carla looked back from the ghost to her daughter, safely returned. She caught the ghost's eye. _Thank you. ._

A small smile graced the ghost's face. He nodded once, and then disappeared. In that moment, Carla Higgins swore that she would never think an unkind remark about the Ghost Boy ever again.

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xxx

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A/N: I'm bbbbaaaaacckk. I actually have an interesting question for you readers out there. This chapter had a lot of variation in length between one drabble and another. What are your thoughts on that? Do you think it would read better if the drabbles were more uniform in length, and if so, how long? Do you prefer the longer ones or the shorter ones?

Please let me know what you think. Let's call it a social experiment.


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